


Swordsmith

by Anonymous



Category: Bleach, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: M/M, Sword Spirits - Freeform, chapter 3 replaced, im so sorry, previously deleted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-25 13:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "Her," Wei WuXian points at Bichen.Lan Wangji follows his gaze, not giving away a hint of his confusion.Wei WuXian grins as he secretly divulges."I was the one who forged her!"Alternatively, Wei WuXian has always been able to see more than others could. He chooses the path of a swordsmith.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hate myself so much for accidentally deleting this story *weeps tears of blood*

     Wei WuXian is ten when he is first brought to the forging house by Jiang FengMian.

 

     The forging house, contrary to the title it has been granted, is nothing more than the humble mansion of a single man. Once the primary choice of residence for all master swordsmen of the Jiang Sect, the house had eventually fallen into a state of desolation following the declining numbers of the Jiang Sect Smiths Clan. However, whenever Wei WuXian stands on the balcony of the Jiang Sect Leader’s manor on the occasion, he thinks he can still spot life in the distant house.

 

     “Are you excited, A-Xian?” Jiang FengMian’s query catches his attention.

 

     The Sect Leader eyes him with a gaze that betrays his faint amusement, hand gentle on the back of Wei WuXian’s shoulders.

 

     “You’re one step away from receiving your sword.”

 

     Wei WuXian is ten, and that is years too early to be receiving a sword traditionally. Not even Jiang Cheng, for all the talent he has shown, has been bestowed that honour yet, and Wei WuXian suspects this might have something to do with Madam Yu’s less than discrete protests regarding him. Nevertheless, because Jiang FengMian looks most indulgent when Wei WuXian feigns innocence, Wei WuXian lifts his cheeks in a smile, hearty and bright.

 

     “Of course I have! I even drew a few sketches of what I’d like!” Wei WuXian shoves his hands into his floppy sleeves, a cheeky grin curling his lips. “Should I show them to you, Uncle?”

 

     Jiang FengMian closes his eyes, shaking his head fondly.

 

     They arrive at the gates of an unimpressive mansion that had seemed bigger further away.

 

     “A-Shan,” The wind carries Jiang FengMian’s voice through the opened doors. “I’m coming in.”

 

      With one hand planted on the wood of the door, Jiang FengMian lightly glances at Wei WuXian and pushes.

 

     The wooden door of the compound creaks as it gives way.

 

     Wei WuXian shudders, nimbly angling himself behind his Uncle with a wary skim of the area.

 

     The forging house, Jiang FengMian had shared with eyes glistening in nostalgia, used to be a place of great beauty. With cherry blossom trees in full bloom during spring, koi leaping out of their ponds in summer, and warm-hearted servants dishing out the best sweets in autumn, the forging house had been a place full of childhood memories for the Jiang Sect Leader. Even now, in the wake of one of the worst natural disasters that left Jiang’s Smith Clan in tatters, Wei WuXian thinks he can see a shadow of the old forging house in the well-tended garden and ponds.

 

     But more than that…

 

     “………”

 

     … what catches Wei WuXian’s immediate attention is not the décor.

 

     A young girl kneels at the side of the koi pond, round hardy pink eyes fixated, lips pulled into a pinched look of concentration as she glares down at its contents.

 

      _“Gotchu!”_ She shrieks, pouncing the surface of the pond with the ferocity of a tiger.

 

     The splash catches Jiang FengMian’s startled attention, but he sees nothing when he looks up. Nevertheless, knowing the rumours surrounding the forging house, Jiang FengMian moves to tuck Wei WuXian further behind his back.

 

      _“Or maybe not?”_ The girl giggles, high and shrill to herself.

 

     Looking up, pink ombres turn to them.

 

     Wei WuXian takes much care in avoiding her curious gaze discretely, slowly shifting his gaze away as if seeing through her. Whilst he has never let a single spirit back at home find out about his sight, this one doesn’t seem the most ideal candidate for his first.

 

      _“Guests?”_  The pink haired girl cocks her head, blinking with round eyes.

 

      _“…Oh.”_ Something dawns upon her.

 

     Lips curving up into the most playful smile Wei WuXian has ever seen from someone that’s not himself, the tiny spirit bursts out into a four-limbed sprint down the garden, bubbly voice tinkling like bells the whole time.

 

      _“Weakling Senbei*! Weakling Senbei! Your guests are here! Give me some o-dango* like you promised!”_ Her feet pound harsh and loud against the wooden boarding as she clambers up the platforms of the house.

 

     Jiang FengMian tenses all the more at the steady stream of inexplicable sounds.

 

     Wei WuXian bites down a hysterical laugh at how  _blatant_  this sword spirit is. Is she even trying?

 

     She hasn’t even gotten down the whole hallway before a hand picks her up by the cuff of her dress.

 

      _“Hm-? Ichii—mfph!”_ The girl’s delighted cheer is silenced by a rice cracker the size of her head.

 

     Munching happily on the snack, she hangs obediently from her caretaker’s arms even when he tucks her under his arm like a potato sack. Has she no pride, he wonders? Wei WuXian mercilessly squashes down the envy that bubbles up. That position  _does_  look kind of fun.

 

     Following the arm of the girl’s caretaker, Wei WuXian’s breath hitches as he catches sight of him. The man remains peering down at the child, the remains of irritation marring his features.

 

     He is a young man in his late teens. With a headful of strikingly bright orange locks glaring in the light, all attention would have been cast upon him regardless of his face. And what a huge pity it would have been. For one to dismiss the softness of those winning features in favour for the illusion of sharpness cast by his hair and intelligent gaze, that would have been overlooking the picture for its frame. Clear brown eyes bore out at the shifting grass for a margin of a second, lips pulled down into what seems to be a permanent scowl. The man adjusts his grip over the girl, heaving an open-mouthed sigh of exasperation. His dreary eyes appear soft in that moment as he peers down at her.

 

     What a strange sight it makes, Wei WuXian muses, for a man decked out wholly in black versus the pink and scarlet butterflies littering the girl’s yukata. As a matter of fact, this spirit has got to be the blackest one he has ever seen.

 

     No sooner had the thought come, brown eyes flicker to them.

 

     Wei WuXian tenses, thinking the other has already noticed his sight. However, the man has already looked away by then.

 

      _“Oi, Jiang HuiShan!”_ He looks ready to kick down a door, except. This one’s far more considerate than the girl.  _“Come out here before I break your arms! And trust me, I will.”_

 

     The growl makes Wei WuXian doubt himself.

 

     Is he really considerate now?

 

     “The sounds have stopped.” Jiang FengMian observes. He glances down at Wei WuXian. “Stay close to me, A-Xian. Don’t stray away from my side. Remember the things I’ve told you about this place.” He nods to him, eyes searching the horizons for his cousin.

 

     “A-Shan! Where are you? Didn’t you receive my letter of notice about visiting?” He lightly cups his mouth.

 

     Oh, Wei WuXian remembers everything alright. From the numerous rumours about the last Master Swordsmith of the Jiang Sect down to the Seven Wonders of the forging house. He remembers every single last little detail. That is why, Wei WuXian is certain.

 

      _“I-I’m terribly sorry,”_ Another sword spirit floats out of a room. With droopy eyes and limpid locks hanging on either side of his face, his hunched back and thin shoulders do not do his image any favours.  _“Jiang-san left a note in the forging room saying he’s in the midst of preparing tea for his cousin. I-I couldn’t stop him.”_ He drops his head, gloomy-faced.

 

      _“Shit.”_ The black spirit curses at once, spinning around.  _“Get Unohana there at once—”_

 

     The three sword spirits fall silent.

 

     They stare, bewildered, at the hand which has reached out to grab a bundle of tattered black ribbons. Even the little munchkin tucked under the black one has stopped dismantling the rice cracker in favour of swallowing audibly.

 

     “Show us the way to your swordsmith.” Wei WuXian speaks up, catching the attention of his uncle.

 

     “A-Xian?” Jiang FengMian furrows his brows, perplexed. He follows the direction of his gaze.

 

     Wei WuXian cracks a smile, bright-eyed and hopeful.

 

     “I want to be his disciple!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Senbei - Japancese for rice cracker  
> *O-dango - jap sweet


	2. Disciple - Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've deleted this story before. i repent.  
>  side note: it has come to my attention some of my readers don't know bleach  
>  well, i'm pretty much keeping this as much of mdzs as possible, so not to worry!  
>  anything on bleach will be in the notes
> 
>  
> 
> kurosaki ichigo / suibian

     Wei WuXian is twelve when he first meets Lan WangJi, and by no means at all is it a coincidence.

 

     The snap of the trees catches Wei WuXian’s attention.

 

     Looking up from the riverside where he was waiting, Wei WuXian bursts into an expectant grin when he sees Kurosaki Ichigo – given name: SuiBian – leaping down the trees with his black robes billowing behind him.

 

     “How is it?” Wei WuXian props his hands up on his waist. “Is my cute little stalker captured?”

 

     Ichigo deadpans at his enthusiasm but otherwise dips his head in a swift nod.

 

      _“One of these days, I’m going to leave you out hanging for the dead. We’ll see how much you regret your stupidity then.”_ He grouches as he takes the lead.

 

     “That’s what you say every time. And yet, you don’t see me any more dead than I was two years ago.”

 

     Wei WuXian smoothly picks up a stone from the ground and aims it at a tree. An apple comes dropping right down into his grasp, following with which Wei WuXian takes a large, crunchy bite. He grins.

 

     “Mmnh. It’s good!”

 

     Ichigo rolls his eyes flippantly.

 

     They arrive at the clearing to find deity-binding net they had set up totally activated.

 

     Wei WuXian grins up at the slumped figure within the golden threads, laughing heartily as he steps within sight.

 

     “Hoho! So you are the little stalker that’s been going around following me! By the looks of those robes, aren’t you one of GusuLan’s disciples? How do you have so much time going around to track down a person like me?”

 

     Wei WuXian easily climbs to the top of the tree with a couple of well-placed kicks against primely-located branches. He crouches low over the top of the thick branch the net hangs from, angling his head to take a better look at his ‘prey’.

 

     Petulant pale gold pools meet his gaze, their visage so mesmerizing Wei WuXian almost falls out of the tree, startled. It takes a moment for Wei WuXian to put where he had heard about the headbands with clouds. At once, grey eyes widen in realization.

 

     “You – You are—”

 

     A loud roar shakes the mountain.

 

     Wei WuXian lifts his head, opened lips mouthing an unwilling  _'Oh shit.'_

 

     “Run!” Wei WuXian is just ready to make his escape when he remembers the little young lord he has, still in his net.

 

     Grey orbs clash with the widened pale golds that appear pensive despite this situation. Wei WuXian stays conflicted for a second.

 

     Lan WangJi, or Lan XiChen – whichever he is – the Lan disciple narrows his eyes at him in a split-second decision.

 

     “Go!” He hurriedly calls out, which is stupid and ridiculous because—

 

     “Are you joking?! As if I’m leaving you behind!”

 

     Wei WuXian drops to his knees on the top of the tree branch at once, extracting a tantou to quickly slice through the deity-binding net. The first thread that breaks leaves that much more stress on the other ones, dropping the Lan disciple by a few halting inches closer to ground. Wei WuXian catches the other interlacing threads immediately, pulling him back up.

 

     “Ah, Lan-Gong-Zi, you’re way too heavy!” He gripes.

 

     He barely has time to widen his eyes before that booming roar comes much closer.

 

     “There have been rumours of a yao that was wandering here recently.” The Lan boy narrows his eyes, clearly running through numerous scenarios in his head. And here, he makes another brisk decision. “…I am a disciple of Lan QiRen. I will take care of myself. Go!”

 

     “It’d be nice if you could stop acting as if your life isn’t in my hands.” Wei WuXian grumbles. “You don’t even have a sword on your han—”

 

      _Hands,_ Wei WuXian had been about to say. But that hadn’t mattered in the next moment with those distinctively _un_ -human paws that snap through the air, sharp fangs bored and menacing red eyes glowing from their abysmal depths.

 

     The Lan boy trapped in the net braces himself.

 

     Wei WuXian lets out a shriek to high heavens.

 

     “DOG!” He cries, scrambling back with wildly trembling feet.

 

     “……!” The Lan boy within the net lets out an alarmed gasp, thinking he'd been attacked by something else; from his angle, he isn't able to see anything above the tree. Yet as selfless as the Lan Young Lord is, he hadn’t the slightest time to worry for others. In the next instance, the wolf of a yao had turned its attention to the quality prey trapped high up in the air, just waiting to be feasted upon. Low growls come, hind feet kicking dust up as it stalks around the net, finding the best angle to jump.

 

     If Wei WuXian does nothing, then the Lan Young Lord is sure to be dog chow.

 

     “Ah, geez!” Wei WuXian wants to burst out in tears as he rushes back forward with the tantou in hand.

 

     Ichigo was right! He shouldn’t have played with stalkers and nets to begin with!

 

     “Dear Buddha, dear God, dear GuanYing, whoever is listening up there, _please get this dog away from me!_ ” Wei WuXian slices through numerous interlacing threads, praying fervently.

 

     The Lan boy, to his credit, hooks his legs around the holes in the net and keeps himself high up and away from the salivating mutt.

 

     Preparing itself at highest ground, the yao bends low on its hind legs and finally leaps with a feral growl.

 

     Wei WuXian has a hand around the boy’s and ready to pull him up when he sees that happen.

 

     “MONGREL!” He shrieks, high-pitched and undignified. Somehow, the feet-rooting terror gives him that last spurt of strength to haul the heavy-bodied Lan-Gong-Zi up. And in that same moment, Wei WuXian felt his spiritual energy drain away with an explosion of sharp red that down by the forest.

 

      _“GETSUGA TENSHO!”_

 

     Ichigo’s yell of his ridiculous attack name goes unheard to all but Wei WuXian.

 

     Wei WuXian whimpers at the hurt whines of a dog he hears thereafter, clapping his hands over his ears.

 

      _“That’s why I told you it’d return to bite you in the ass.”_ Ichigo’s exasperated comment drifts to him from down below.

 

     “S-SuiBian, I won’t _ever_ doubt you again.” Wei WuXian croaks out. “They say a Mother’s words aren’t to be doubted after all…"

 

      _“Don’t call me that!”_

 

     “More importantly… do you think you can get off me now, Lan QiRen’s disciple? You’re… kind of squashing me here.”

 

     Wei WuXian musters a weak smile, heaving with sweet relief for dear air when the crushing weight is finally lifted off his body. It’s not until he catches the face boring down at him that Wei WuXian realizes he might have unwittingly submitted himself to a different sort of torture.

 

     The boy dons a forehead ribbon with the cloud patterns of GusuLan’s main clan. With skin fairer than most maidens Wei WuXian has seen, features both soft and refined emphasizes the beauty he would grow to become, even with the small traces of baby fat still clinging on to him. The colour of his eyes is especially light, almost to the extent where they’re comparable to tinted glass. Just a little, Wei WuXian has to say that aura of ethereality makes him seem slightly distant, so overly perfect it makes a scourge of a child like him want to ruin him to lower him to them mortals’ level. Seeing him up close is not doing his heart any favours...

 

     Realizing that the growls have settled, the young Lan-Gong-Zi pushes himself up to glance down at the clearing.

 

     Obviously, there is nothing left but the dissipating evil energy and the sword SuiBian. In the eyes of others though, Wei WuXian would imagine the yao has been vanquished by a bright flash of light, leaving no traces of the cultivator in its wake. He had made sure to place an Invisibility Seal over SuiBian before they left Lotus Pier. It'd be quite troubling after all if others see a cultivation sword floating around in mid-air during their travels. No cultivator carries their sword around with their qi, however talented they may be.

 

     That said, no seal is truly impenetrable. If a talented enough cultivator stares at it for long enough, they'll eventually notice the distortion in the qi surrounding SuiBian.

 

     Wei WuXian lifts his hand guilelessly to the strands of inky hair spilling over broad shoulders, and with a curling grin, he yanks it harshly down.

 

     "M-Mnh." The Lan-Gong-Zi catches himself at once, elbows bracing on either sides of Wei WuXian. 

 

     Ichigo had better use this time to collect the beast core... They're here for that after all.

 

     “Hey, you." Wei WuXian casually calls out to the disconcerted stare on him. "What was that you said just now about leaving you behind? Are all disicples of the GusuLan Sect this suicidal? Did you realize how stupid a thing you were about to do? What would I have said to Lan QiRen if you were eaten whole into that beast’s belly, huh?” 

 

     The Lan boy’s features remain apathetic.

 

     “…You know my Uncle?”

 

     Realization flickers across Wei WuXian’s features. Ah, shit! He wasn’t supposed to let any one know he was here! That said, denial here would seem pretty suspicious so…

 

     “Yup, I sure do!” Wei WuXian flashes his canines in an overly toothy smile. “Me and Lan QiRen are great friends, you see! I’ve seen him around in this area a couple of times or so… We’re pretty well acquainted, if I dare say so myself!" 

 

     That's not a lie. 

 

     Ichigo snorts.

 

      _"That old geezer hates you with his whole heart and soul."_

 

Oh, the unhelpful sword can just shut up!

 

     “In that case, why did Uncle ask me to catch the thief who has been stealing the medical herbs outside Cloud Recesses? You are him, right?” The Lan boy’s gaze trails from Wei WuXian down to the leaves poking out of the little sack he carries with him.

 

     “………”

 

     …Is there even a way for him to deny something this obvious?

 

     Wei WuXian hadn’t even begun his planned struggles before a hand pins him down by the shoulder.

 

     “Suspicious.” The Lan disciple narrows his gaze at him. “I’m bringing you back to Cloud Recesses.”

 

     “You’re joking. Come on, spare me some grief! I just saved your life too, you know?!” Wei WuXian whines and struggles in his hold. The Lan disciple is unusually strong, for all the book muggers the Lan disciples are known to be.

 

     “Dubious.” The Lan boy states, cold gaze shifting down to the vanishing body of the beast below. There is no core left, for Ichigo has slapped on yet another invisibility seal. “…That is deserving of some investigation too.”

 

     Wei WuXian can’t handle it anymore. He swivels abruptly to the sword spirit leaning down by the tree, cheek propped up in hand.

 

     “SuiBian! Stop looking on without doing anything! Say something about this too!”

 

     Kurosaki Ichigo stares at him dead in the eyes.

 

      _“You deserve this.”_

 

     Wei WuXian shuts up. He glares spitefully at his sword.

 

     “You know, sometimes, I wonder who’s the more childish one between the two of us.”

 

      _“You obviously have me beat, hands down.”_ Ichigo shoves the beast's core within his robes.

 

     The grip on Wei WuXian's shoulder tightens.

 

     “Who are you speaking to?” The Lan boy questions him.

 

     “Obviously, nobody.” Wei WuXian answers, frowning as he turns to reach up and pat the boy’s face.

 

     Startled, the Lan disciple moves back in shock. Never one to miss an opportunity when it's before him, Wei WuXian aims his feet high up at once. The Lan-Gong-Zi flips back in a graceful mess of white clothes, pulling sleeves away from the mud caking Wei WuXian's boots.

 

     Wei WuXian laughs heartily as he leaps off the tree and flops right into Ichigo’s side. The sword spirit grumbles indiscernible complains under his breath, steadying him. Wei WuXian pats his arm mockingly in appreciation. He looks back up the tree.

 

     “Hey, Lan-Gong-Zi! Care to tell this humble one your name?!"

 

     Wei WuXian asks that not because he needs to buy time, but because he is genuinely curious.

 

     Narrowing his eyes down at the teleportation talisman in Wei WuXian’s hand and the cheeky grin on his cherub face, the Lan disciple follows at a more sedate pace.

 

     “Why?” He questions simply.

 

     “So I know what to call you the next time I reappear, of course!” Wei WuXian winks. He snickers. “After all… It’s not every day I get to meet one of my personal stalkers!”

 

     “…” The boy appears equal parts outraged and incredulous at his words. “Shameless!”

 

     “Shameless, huh! That's a name that suits you!” Wei WuXian gives yet another snicker at the dilating eyes the other, hands curling close in rage. This one here... How should he put it- "You're pretty fun to tease, just like Lan QiRen!" He beams.

 

     He gives a one finger salute to Lan ‘Shameless’ and activates the talisman. “I’ll see you around then, Shameless!”

 

     “You—”

 

     Wei WuXian vanishes without leaving behind a trace.


	3. Disciple - Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter has been replaced.  
>  i'm so sorry to all those who had to deal with my moods.  
>  Edits begin around Lan QiRen
> 
> kusajishi yachiru / girl by the pond

     Even though the Forging House is open for the residence of only master swordsmiths of Jiang Sect, there had been a time where it had opened its gates to disciples all over the region.

 

     Sword forging, by nature, is an extremely delicate process that requires much precision and control. Sword forging for the cultivators, naturally, requires all the more effort and extraordinary mastery over one’s capacity of _qi_. There are three stages in the making of any sword: The forging (melting), the smithing (shaping), and the polishing (finishing). In any stage of the process, a fine eye and delicate control over one’s _qi_ is imperative to give birth to a sword for cultivation – and that’s not even talking about the fine synchronicity between both the user and smith’s spiritual energy!

 

     It is as such, that several generations back in Lan Qiren’s time as a disciple, the Forging House had worked closely with the Cloud Recesses. Opening its gates to the disciples also means the Forging House had a baseline of qi mastery to be met. Any amateurs were thereby sent to Cloud Recesses for basic training. In return, any advanced disciples of Cloud Recesses were sent down Lotus Pier’s way for the finetuning of their qi control.

 

     Lan Qiren was naturally selected as part of the cohort for exchange. It was to his greatest fortune that he stumbled upon a genius swordsmith then whose qi melded so perfectly with his, his sword became a legend amongst smiths. If there was any issue… it would be that the genius Jiang Huishan was still but an impressionable seven-year-old then.

 

     With that said, their pair remains formidable to date.

 

* * *

 

     To Wei Wuxian, Lan Qiren is nothing more than that old geezer who shows up every now and then.

 

     Another use of the teleporting talisman later, Wei Wuxian stumbles forward, just barely caught by the frowning Ichigo’s brisk hand.

 

     “Shi-Fu*! You won’t dare to believe what I managed to get at Carp Tower this time! Shi—”

 

     Wei Wuxian’s words falter into stumped silence. He gawps at the young teen who’s standing before him, pointing a shaky finger incredulously. Pale gold eyes bore out at him, a marginally confused yet charming smile carried on his unblemished features.

 

     “You—” Wei Wuxian blurts. “You’re—”

 

     “Hah…” Lan Qiren sighs as he ducks out of the grand entrance to their Forging House. “Time and again, do I have to consistently remind you not to raise your voice so gracelessly? Wei Wuxian. As Jiang Huishan’s disciple, always carry yourself with a conduct—”

 

     “Shameless!” Wei Wuxian cries out, delighted.

 

     "Hn?!" Lan Qiren makes a strangled sound at being interrupted.

 

     Wei Wuxian lets out a sonorous chuckle, leaping forward to bump the white-robed boy with his side.

 

     “What are you-? Are you here to finally arrest me for stealing your house’s medical herbs? How and when did you grow up this tall anyways? What _does_ the GusuLan Sect feed its disciples?”

 

     Wei Wuxian can’t hide the awe from his voice.

 

     “Mh? Mh? Mh-?” Shameless merely gives a lost smile, startled by how familiar Wei Wuxian is with him.

 

     “Hm…” That’s odd.

 

     Wei Wuxian squints up at him suspiciously.

 

     …Was Shameless ever such a happy-looking person again? Whatever happened to him in this one or two months since his trip to Cloud Recesses?

 

     Well, in any case,

 

     “I wouldn’t have expected puberty to look so good on you!” Wei Wuxian laughs fondly, slapping his hand affably on the startled teen’s back.

 

     “…!” The teen blinks once with widened gold eyes. He sends a wry smile down Wei Wuxian’s way.

 

     “…Is there, by any chance, you’re mistaking me for someone else?” He offers a polite suggestion.

 

     “Hm?”

 

     It’s then that Wei Wuxian spots the other white-robed boy trailing behind Lan Qiren.

 

     Lan Wangji stands with a face of complete apathy, but there’s no denying the hidden glower in his eyes as he tightens the curl of his fingers, gaze tellingly hard as it rests on Wei Wuxian’s frame.

 

     Wei Wuxian musters a sheepish chuckle, finally realizing his mistake.

 

     “…Just now… Did Lan Er-Gong-Zi perhaps hear everything?” He cocks his head.

 

     “Hoh~ That’s amusing, considering eavesdropping is one of Cloud Recesses’ many forbidden acts! Eh? Or is that unimportant now that we’re out of Cloud Recesses? Lan Er-Gong-Zi sure has a set of questionable morals!” Wei Wuxian taunts, a grin as bright as sun splitting his face.

 

     Lan Wangji peers at him with a set of eyes clearly narrowed in dislike.

 

     He doesn’t say anything. Is it because of his Uncle’s presence?

 

     “What’s wrong?” Wei Wuxian feigns concern, leaning in. “Cat got your tongue?”

 

     Lan Qiren heaves a sigh, just short of burying his face into his hand.

 

      _“I’ll go ahead and make tea for these guys.”_ Ichigo steps away.

 

     “Right! You go ahead and do that!” Wei Wuxian calls after him.

 

     Spotting the flickers of surprise in Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen’s expressions, Wei Wuxian keeps his grin even under odd stares. As far as he’s concerned, the Forging House is _their_ realm. They could do as they like.

 

     Pink floral coat billowing clamorously in the air, even now, a single middle-aged man remains seated on the rooftop, bamboo hat dipped low atop his wavy pony. He eyes the intruders with a shadowed stare.

 

     Wei Wuxian waves exaggeratedly to him, a small but reassuring smile dimpling cherub features.

 

     Murky eyes soften.

 

     The sword spirit picks up his cup and resumes the upending of fine wine.

 

     “Ah! Just so you know, I've replaced some of those barrels with water!" Wei Wuxian calls out around a cupped mouth.

 

     The sword spirit spurts out a fine geyser of water, forming a rainbow in the sky.

 

     He turns to pout at a snickering Wei Wuxian, betrayed.

 

     Lan Qiren has never approved of Wei Wuxian’s blatant behaviour within the Forging House grounds, but not even he had ever dared say a word in respect to those that are there. Dipping his head towards the roof in begrudging acknowledgement, Lan Qiren reaches out to prop his hands on either of his nephews’ shoulders. And surely, he must have warned them of the other existences within this house, because why else would they come to a still and dip their heads in that same way?

 

     Wei Wuxian buries a smile at their obscured puzzlement.

 

     The spirit on the roof dips a nod back in appreciative respect.

 

     “Now then! Shall we go? Shi-Fu must be bored to tears waiting!” Wei Wuxian gives an amicable smile, hand reaching up to grace the edges of his travelling bamboo hat. “Oh, and speaking of which!”

 

     Wei Wuxian’s smile turns mischievous. He leans into Lan Qiren’s personal space, earning himself a look.

 

     “Did you let yourself in again, Lan Qiren? ‘Entering without permission is forbidden in Cloud Recesses.’ Did you forget your own Sect’s rules?” He snickers.

 

     “……” Lan Qiren seemed to be biting down his own rage. “…what blasphemy!” Referring to his ungracious abuse of the clan rules.

 

     Hearing that, Wei Wuxian can’t help but toss his head back with a hearty laugh.

 

      _‘Who told you to give Shi-Fu the suggestion of punishing me by copying GusuLan’s Rules?’_ He thinks privately, the impish grin of a prankster coming to his face. _‘Now that I’ve got something to hold over you, I’m going to make full use of your time here to press all your buttons! Just you wait, Lan Qiren. I’ll have my revenge at the end of the day!’_

 

     “What’s up with that face?” Lan Qiren narrows his eyes warily at the boy.

 

     “Wouldn’t you wanna know?” Wei Wuxian quirks a sly smile at him, eyes twinkling with mirth.

 

     No affection is lost between Jiang Huishan’s disciple and his closest swordsman.

 

* * *

 

 

     There are several notable rooms within the Forging House, one of which is the welcoming room.

 

     Overlooking the cherry blossom trees outside at an angle that would earn the envy of the wealthiest of lords, the welcoming room is neither big nor small, just the right size humble enough to impress. Three wooden tables are always propped against the side of the window, stools and tea laid out on the occasion for the whims of Wei Wuxian’s master whenever he strolls in with a book to indulge. Wei Wuxian had gathered around those tables with the younger spirits numerous times to listen to the tales Jiang Huishan would share.

 

     Today’s evidently not such a day, all three ‘children’ being kicked out promptly.

 

     “Hah… I just knew this would happen.”

 

     Wei Wuxian heaves a disappointed sigh, dropping thin shoulders.

 

     “Shi-Fu… Even though you’re a person of such fine character, why can’t you read into my heart at times like these? I even brought you those mooncakes you were longing after.” Wei Wuxian sulks.

 

     “Come now, Wei Gong-Zi. Whilst neither of us may match your master in standing, surely, there must be something we can do to entertain you?”

 

     Wei Wuxian slides his gaze dully over to Lan Xichen.

 

     There he is, Lan Xichen, in all his smiling glory. Face so acutely similar to Lan Wangji’s, if only slenderer and more defined in his age, Lan Xichen has every bearing of a young lord, heavenly blue swirls on white robes only alleviating the picturesque scene in this mess of a garden. Wei Wuxian feels all the more depressed looking at that refreshing smile bear down on his gloom.

 

     “Say, Lan Gong-Zi, you _do_ realize you were kicked out for the sole reason of tradition, don’t you?” Wei Wuxian grips, grumbling. "We don't have to get along just because your Uncle tells us to. The Forging House no longer has the same relation it once had with Cloud Recesses."

 

     Lan Xichen only smiles. It’s like a breath of heavenly fresh air has entered the field.

 

     Wei Wuxian heaves yet another sigh.

 

     “Speaking of which, that old geezer sure is ridiculous.” He shakes his head, feeling completely exasperated. “Of all people, who would have thought _he_ would be one for sentimental things like this? You Lan people sure are a bunch of hopeless romantics!”

 

     To cling onto the scattered remains of a Forging House long gone… How hopelessly in love must one be with the past?

 

     “There are many who share your sentiment.” Lan Xichen smiles faintly, eyes glazing over.

 

     He seems like he’s a million miles away even whilst being physically here. Wei Wuxian can’t help but turn to his brother.

 

     “…Just to be certain, you _do_ know what you’re getting yourselves involved in here, right?” Wei Wuxian questions lowly.

 

     After all, and whilst this should come as no surprise, cultivators who have come to seek the services of Jiang Huishan have been time and again requested to travel the region in search of the most precious of ores. Many have given up their third trip in, and even fewer has made it to their fifth. It is for that purpose that some young lords have chosen to bring their aides to keep them from dying.

 

     Whilst Lan Qiren may have brought his nephews here in hopes of forming the same ties he did with Jiang Huishan, that doesn't exclude them from this rule.

 

     Lan Wangji peers at him, full of composure.

 

     He parts his lips, and he says only one word,

 

     “Training.”

 

     “Oh! Wow! How cool! Lan Er-Ge-Ge, you’re so handsome, I might have fallen for you!” Wei Wuxian claps his hands with a face-splitting grin. He drops them with a grim frown. “No, but really, let’s be serious here. Shi-Fu might lower the difficulty because of your age, but… It’s going to be tough.”

 

     Lan Xichen inclines his head.

 

     “Uncle has informed us. He nearly died killing the Tiger _yao_ on the mountains of the Unclean Realm. The volcanoes down in the west was an inch from catching him alive.”

 

     And even then, they still chose to come together…?

 

     “Woah…” Wei Wuxian breathes, awed. “You’re both too cool.”

 

     Lan Xichen angles a smile at his brother, silently amused. And Lan Wangji appears just as apathetic as always even in this instance, his face rigid and cold.

 

     “Except you.” Wei Wuxian jabs a finger at that beautiful face. Wei Wuxian narrows grey eyes at him, lips turned up in relentless teasing. “Come on, Lan Zhan! Give me a smile, will you?! It’s been one, two months since I last saw you outside Cloud Recesses, and you’re still just as gloomy as you were the last time! What a waste of that pretty face—” Wei Wuxian thoughtlessly reaches out pincer fingers to pinch the other’s skin.

 

     In an instance, Lan Wangji is three arms’ distance away from him, the start of his brows scrunched in irritation.

 

     “…hoho?” Wei Wuxian’s look of shock gradually melts away.

 

     Lan Wangji remains unyielding.

 

     “I get it now.” Wei Wuxian curls the edges of his lips up.

 

     A twitch forms on Lan Wangji’s perfect face.

 

     “GYAH!” Wei Wuxian leaps forward.

 

     Lan Wangji is quick to dodge.

 

     “Pfthahaha!” Wei Wuxian laughs breathlessly as he takes chase. Lan Er-Gong-Zi’s briskly takes refuge in the few bamboo trees in the area, making full use of the terrain. “Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan, Lan Er-Gong-Zi…! Lan Er-Ge-Ge…!” Wei Wuxian chokes on a mouthful of air, breathless from laughter. “You’re afraid of physical affection?” He can’t believe it.

 

     “I’m not.” Lan Wangji replies blankly, slipping out a practice sword from his back.

 

     He angles the blunt side of it at Wei Wuxian just when he comes too close, aiming to rattle rather than to injure.

 

     “Don’t lie!” Wei Wuxian grabs the sword by the blade, grunting as he pulls him towards him. Nevertheless, the grin remains unfalteringly bright on Wei Wuxian’s face. “Did you forget we practically hugged back at Cloud Recesses? We'rethat close, aren't we?” He reminds him teasingly.

 

     “…” Lan Wangji’s expression doesn’t change, but he releases a shaky breath, full of repressed rage. "...not close!"

 

     Wei Wuxian releases the practice sword when Lan Wangji swings it free from his grasp.

 

     Lan Xichen turns over to his younger brother with an amused smile when Lan Wangji comes to a rest beside him, pale eyes narrowed at Wei Wuxian in consternation.

 

     “Is that so?” Lan Xichen asks, a secretive glint in his eyes. “No wonder you never told us about your saviour back on the mountain.”

 

     Lan Wangji withdraws his blade back behind him, silently rising back to his fullest height.

 

     He didn’t report Wei Wuxian’s presence to the elders…? No wonder Lan Old Geezer hadn’t told him off the first moment he saw him!

 

     An easy laugh slipping into the air, Wei Wuxian hops forward with one foot. In an instant, Lan Wangji has taken a step back in wariness, bracing himself for yet another attack. And it would seem to Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji is asking for some teasing, because how can he resist when he reacts so comically like that?

 

     “Don’t be scared, Lan Er-Ge-Ge!” Wei Wuxian reassures with a faint chortle, taking yet another step forward. “I just want to thank you for helping me keep the secret!”

 

     …Why did he keep it a secret? In the end, was it because he figured out Wei Wuxian was his saviour? Or was he just keeping a stop on the information flow so others can’t know the second son of the Lan clan had needed saving? That seems more like it to Wei Wuxian’s jaded eyes, but… Cocking his head at the pale gold eyes peering down at him with a hint of flustered wariness, it seems like that isn’t the case at all.

 

     Well, whatever.

 

     Wei Wuxian bends his knees, lowering his body in an instance to charge forward in the swift watery motions his sword spirits have taught him.

 

     Lan Wangji’s eyes widen.

 

     He tenses himself in preparation for an attack, but—

 

     “Thank you!” Wei Wuxian pats him lightly on the back with one hand.

 

     He chortles at Lan Wangji’s look of surprise. Finally, something other than apathy!

 

     Hearing the tinkles of a bell coming from the kitchen area, Wei Wuxian smiles gently and looks up.

 

     “Looks like our tea is ready!”

 

     Three teacups sit quietly steaming in the tray propped on the window sill.


	4. Disciple - Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wonder how many amongst my readers actually know bleach?  
>  i'm getting weak as i grow old  
>  no longer am i able to write those 12k+ chapters i used to
> 
> shunsui kyoraku

     Lan Er Gong-Zi’s first step out of the welcoming room is met with a cry.

  

     “Catch!”

 

     Lan Wangji catches the projectile without thinking, a silently perplexed look taking over the smooth of his face as he peers down at the curved sword.

 

     And what a beautiful sword it is. In the cultivation world, there are various choices of weapons used by the cultivators in accordance to their preference. For most, their primary choice is the double-sided edged _jian_ (straight sword) which falls in line with the styles of martial arts taught by Cultivation Sects. Following with which, odd exceptions are made, like the single-sided _dao_ (sabers) which the Nie Sect uses, _gun_ (staff) which monks are still fervent users of, as well as the occasional _qiang_ (spear). Only once in every blue moon is an artefact like _zidian_ crafted by smiths of remarkable talent.

 

     The one which Wei Wuxian had just hurled into the hands of the other boy is a one-edged _dao_ with pink hues of cherry blossoms and fine threads of scarlet and black weaved into its hilt. Were Lan Wanji to pull it from its sheathe, he would be faced with the fine wavy lines in the blade so defined, perhaps even he would be in awe.

 

     What expression would he have when he does that? Wei Wuxian makes a note to check in with _her_ at the end of it.

 

     “Why?” Comes Lan Wangji’s flat query.

 

     It’s a little bit disappointing, to be honest. However, Wei Wuxian merely lets out a careless chuckle, cocking his head.

 

     “Why?” He parrots. “It’s just an insurance to make sure you don’t come back in pieces, of course! I’m not cruel enough to want you to die.”

 

     Lan Wangji does not reply. He merely levels his gaze on Wei Wuxian evenly, unreadable, yet weighty.

 

     And just when he parts his mouth to reject the offer, Wei Wuxian interrupts with a face-splitting grin.

 

     “Come now, no need to reject this offer. Lan Er-Ge-Ge, you’re not the only one who is getting a sword from us.”

 

     He skips forward. And with light fingers, Wei Wuxian gently pats the other boy on the shoulder.

 

     Lan Wangji doesn’t even flinch.

 

     Huh… Wei Wuxian peers up at the other with a look of surprise. He must be severely rattled to not react to that.

 

     “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji looks like he wants to say something.

 

     But just when he parts his lips, the sword in his hands can’t hold it in anymore and pops into existence.

 

      _“Yin-Yang!”_ Yachiru throws her long floppy butterfly sleeves into the air. She huffs, high voice calling in a whine. _“When are we leaving? Hey, Snow-Face, why aren’t we leaving yet? Hurry, I wanna go out and kick some butts already! Ken-Ken* always said fighting is living!”_

 

     “Is that so?” Wei Wuxian drawls in faux awe, rolling his eyes over to her. He quirks his lips up mischievously at the small child. “Then, how about you wrestle the dirty sheets from the bed next time? Hanatarou* would be pleased—”

 

      _“NO!”_ Shrieks the small child.

 

     Wei Wuxian covers his ears with a flinch but the edges of his eyes crinkle and he bursts out into warm laughter.

 

     Lan Wangji remains still as a statue when Wei Wuxian peers over to him, remembering he can’t see. (It’s always hard to remember in the forging house.)

 

     “Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian flashes teeth in the tiniest of grins as he waves is hand over to Yachiru. “This is Kusajishi Yachiru. She’ll be your sword partner for this journey, and—”

 

     Wei Wuxian swiftly angles his body away from her pissed face, teeth bared and ready to bite.

 

     He laughs lightly as he pulls out a cracker from his sleeves and shoves it into her face.

 

     Round pink eyes are quick to blink, settling from the red haze of anger. She unleashes her frustration on the rice cracker, loud chomps devouring its edges whole within seconds.

 

     “—She is _extremely_ bitey.” Wei Wuxian finishes.

 

     Lan Wangji is still as he turns in the direction of the child where Wei Wuxian had been facing, pale golds impassive even as they search out and find nothing.

 

     “Mmh.” Lan Wangji dips his head in acknowledgement.

 

     And Wei Wuxian feels ready to burst out in laughter.

 

     ‘Mmh’? Faced with a sword spirit that he’s wielding, all he has to say is just ‘mmh’? Lan Wangji is too unsociable!

 

     “Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji refocuses the topic back to him. “The five ordeals of the forging house are tests of a person’s character. Your master must have forbidden you from helping. Are you sure about doing this?”

 

     Wei Wuxian’s smile dampens, but he eyes Lan Wangji’s hands with fondness.

 

     Even when he sees nothing, Lan Wangji wields Kusajishi Yachiru with gentle firmness, as if subconsciously tailoring his treatment to Wei Wuxian’s little show just now.

 

     “Say, Lan Zhan, what do you think sword spirits are?” Wei Wuxian tosses out a curveball out of nowhere.

 

     Lan Wangji’s expression remains unchanging.

 

     “Yao are formed from living, non-human beings; demons are formed from living, human beings; ghosts are formed from dead human beings; and monsters are formed from dead, non-human beings.”

 

     Wei Wuxian recites the knowledge that is basic to all within the Cultivation world.

 

     He curves a smile at the other, locks of hair cradling his face at the motion.

 

     “In that case, where do you think the sword spirits fall under?”

 

      _“A quiz?”_ Yachiru scrunches her face up around her rice cracker. _“This is so difficult, I don’t understand!”_

 

     With a radiant laugh undampened, the sword spirit bounces over to the pond to bid her farewell to the koi (in the form of another fearsome sweep at the water surface).

 

     Lan Wangji is still under Wei Wuxian’s gaze, not hesitating in the slightest.

 

     “Gods.”

 

     He says just that word only, slowly elaborating in the stunned silence.

 

     “They, who are unliving, are neither yao nor demons. They, who have never lived, have never risen from the dead to become ghosts and demons. As such, they, who stand amongst us despite not needing a soul, are deities of protection worthy of respect.” Lan Wangji lowers his even gaze at Wei Wuxian. “That is what they are.”

 

     Eyes widening a fraction at his answer, Wei Wuxian lets out a chuckle full of breathless delight.

 

     “Gods, huh! That’s just what I’d expect from a Lan disciple… You’re all as romantic as you are dreamy!” Wei Wuxian teases, but not even that survives the touch of fondness at the other’s right answer.

 

     He smiles as he watches Lan Xichen stumble out of the welcoming room in a daze.

 

     Shunsui Kyoraku leaps off the roof, dipping his hatted head low in acceptance as he drops his own sword into Wei Wuxian’s extended hand. He retreats into his metal body in a burst of fluttering sparkles.

 

     “Make sure you come back safely, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian grins as he passes, tapping the other on the shoulder.

 

     It would be a great pity if his first customer is killed before Wei Wuxian forges him a sword.

 

     Lan Wangji doesn’t answer; merely inclines his head.

 

     And yet, that seems like as much of a promise as Wei Wuxian has ever seen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

     This is a secret, but there is, naturally, a cost for making every sword spirit corporeal.

 

     Wei Wuxian wakes up at in the wee hours of the dark morning to a gurgle of blood choking up his nostrils and a rapid splash of wetness trickling out to his arms.

 

     He can’t move. Can’t breathe. Hurts everywhere, and _he can’t breathe_ —

 

     Ichigo sensed his spiritual energy fluctuate and physically kicks down the door.

 

     SuiBian inhales sharply at the pungent scent of blood in the room, nose wrinkling as clear brown eyes widen with a mix of anguish and startled realization.

 

     He parts his lips.

 

     What follows thereafter is a stream of words so muddled through the rain, it would hardly make a difference if he’s listening through a thick layer of water devouring him alive.

 

     Distantly, Wei Wuxian registers the harsh beat of feet against the polished wood of the hallways.

 

     More sword spirits are gathering. His Master… Jiang Huishan… he’s…

 

     Kurosaki Ichigo is bowed over him in the last heartbeats he remembers hearing.

 

      _“…stupid… damn it!”_

 

     Calloused fingers reach down helplessly only to slip through Wei Wuxian’s neck.

 

     Wei Wuxian let out another gurgle of pain when his head falls to the ground. Should he be in any form to do so, he would have forced a chuckle. That hurts.

 

     But as it is, the last thing he hears when he slips away from consciousness is the call of Ichigo’s voice.

 

      

* * *

 

      

      _Lan Wangji puts out a plate of steamed meat buns and tea as he has had for the past few days._

 

      _Only two are touched. The sweetened ones are left behind._

 

      _Lan Wangji picks the plate up to return to the innkeeper._

 

      _Shunsui Kyoraku is indulgently stroking down the back of the young girl draped over his lap when the boy speaks up._

 

      _“How… is she?”_

 

      _Kyoraku stiffens, lifting his eyes._

 

      _“Wangji?” Lan Xichen calls out in concern._

 

      _Lan Wangji does not reply; merely stares forward, with gaze unfocused, at the place where he believes they are situated. Now, Kyoraku would regale the other with a drawl and an amused huff could he be heard, but alas, nothing seems to be right in the world today. (Though the boy could hardly be faulted for his youth. The allowance of mistakes is what enables a new generation to grow.)_

 

      _Kyoraku rises to his feet, taking great care not to rouse Kusajishi Yachiru. And gingerly, he picks up the brush seated at the side of the table._

 

      _Two men, one aged and the other young, tenses._

 

      _Lan Wangji is not one of them._

 

      _Kyoraku hums, entertained by the boy as he glides over to peer over his shoulder._

 

     ‘F.I.N.E’

 

      _Now, that should be enough to settle his worries, wouldn’t it? The other boy and his smith’s swordsman look fairly freaked out there—_

 

      _“Why,” Lan Wangji begins abruptly again. Awfully lot of words today, isn’t he? “Did the Master of the Forging House not summon you to retrieve these materials?”_

 

      _For the second time that day, Kyoraku freezes. Even the smile on his face is tight._

 

      _“Is Wei Ying hiding something from us?” Lan Wangji ventures, eyes narrowed._

 

      _By the look on his face, he already knows the truth._

 

      _Kyoraku lets out a low and gruff chuckle, stroking his stubbly chin._

 

      _“Awfully bright, aren’t you?” He muses. He picks up the brush again. “Honestly. With all you prodigious children wandering about, you’re making this old geezer feel expired.”_

 

     ‘Give me more rice wine and maybe I’ll tell you.’

 

      _Of course, that is a lie, but the absolute look of consternation reflected all on three faces, accompanied by the tightening of Lan Wangji’s hands, is nothing if not comical._

 

      _‘Drinking is forbidden in the Cloud Recesses,’ they say? In that case, Shunsui Kyoraku would be damned if he doesn’t make them break the rule. In one way or another, he_ will _be getting his get-well present for his young and bright master. (Wei Ying would be disappointed otherwise.)_

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Ken-Ken: fighting maniac who raised yachiru  
> 
> 
> *Hanatarou: the weak-willed spirit from chapter 1. He was bullied into laundry duty.


End file.
